Unrequited Love
by Chuckamaru
Summary: Ok now. I support V/B 100%, but Yamcha has a story that needs to be told. And since Yamcha is one of my top four favorite characters, I feel it is my duty to tell it. Please R&R.


Disclaimer: I don't own DragonBall/Z/GT. 

It had been quite some time since Bulma had left him for Vegeta, but Yamcha was feeling just as dejected as he had when it had just happened. His friends tried everything they could to make him feel better, but nothing seemed to be working. They encouraged him to talk about it, thinking maybe that would help, but he couldn't. Not to them anyway. 

No. There was no way Yamcha could spill his guts to these people he'd known for years. No. If he tried, he'd be self-conscious about what he was saying and he wouldn't be able to sort his feelings properly. No. If he was going to talk about it, it had to be to a total stranger. 

Yamcha made an appointment with a psychiatrist. Not because he thought a doctor could help him, but just because it was someone he could tell the story to and never see again. Yes. That was the best plan. 

Dr. Parker, a white-haired, elderly man with thick glasses, was the perfect image of the classic, stereo-type psychiatrist. 

"All right, young man." said the doctor, indicating the red couch. "Take a seat. Get comfortable." Yamcha sat. "Now tell me what the problem is." 

"Well,"Yamcha began. "Years ago, I met this girl. Maybe you've heard of her. Her name is Bulma Briefs." 

"The Bulma Briefs? Capsule Corporation Bulma Briefs?" 

"That's her all right." said Yamcha, a far-away look in his eyes. "Beautiful, blue-eyed, Bulma Brief. She and I were together on and off for years. I was in love with her. Magorly. Not like stalker in love. More like...fairy tale in love. Still am actually. Probably always will be." He sighed. "I thought she loved me too. But it turns out she only liked me and thought I was cute. It was just a teenage crush that went on for way too long. 

"I wish she had at least let me down easy instead of leading me on for all those years and then getting with another guy and having a kid with him." he sighed again. "Oh well. Probably wouldn't have made a difference any way." 

Yamcha shook his head and smiled weakly. "Vegeta and Bulma. Seems like a match made in Hell. At first any way. Then you realize... they... were made for each other. My heart breaks every time I see them together. Sometimes I can play it off like I'm over her. Other times I... just... sort of... break down. I try really hard not to hold it against them. I know better than anyone that you can't choose who you love. 

"It has gotten a little better. Not the situation. Just my ability to handle it. It all depends on a lot of things. How things are going at work. Hm. Whether or not I have a job at all. Things like that. 

"My friends have tried to hook me up with every single girl they know. They don't get that I'm in love. They think it's infatuation. But does infatuation eat at your soul? Does it bring pain so intense that it threatens your very being? I think not." 

Yamcha began speaking faster, a little more frantically. "Things are just so complicated. I know she doesn't love me! I know she never will, and I've accepted it! I just can't stop loving her! No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try I, I can't! I'm losing my mind! It's painful just to be alive! I'm not sure how much longer I can go on like this! Semites I just want to, I don't know, kill myself. I mean, who would miss me anyway? I know what everyone thinks. 'Yamcha's so weak' an 'Yamcha's so useless' and 'We'd all be better off without Yamcha!'" Yamcha was crying in spite of himself. He shook his head again and wiped his face. 

"No." he said. "That's not fair. I can't say that. My friends do care about me. Otherwise they wouldn't have gone through all this trouble to try to help me through all this." Yamcha was suddenly aware that the doctor wasn't listening. He glanced up at Dr. Parker and saw that he was asleep. "Cliché." Yamcha muttered. He stood up. He exited into the waiting room were Puar had been waiting for him. 

"Do you feel any better Yamcha?" she asked. 

"A little" he replied, smiling vaguely. 

"Are you ready to go?" 

"Yeah." and with that, they left. 

In truth, Yamcha did not feel better. Not in the least. In fact, the only thing that had come out of the whole visit was a faint idea of what he was feeling and a doctor's bill that would be difficult to pay. 


End file.
